


Unpredictable

by trillingstar



Category: Law & Order: SVU, Wanted (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-10
Updated: 2008-11-10
Packaged: 2017-10-06 10:24:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trillingstar/pseuds/trillingstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beer good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unpredictable

**Author's Note:**

> Totally improbable. Just-for-fun fic. Pre-series for Wanted &amp; pre-booty call/Eli Jr. for SVU. And apparently, they knew each other in night school. Just go with it.
> 
> Kick-started by prompts from Colleendetroit, Luci_2, &amp; Michiru42.  
> 

They've been drinking steadily for hours, reminiscing about ridiculous classes they'd been forced to take; Professor Lymeson with the – "At least!" - 42Ds, who they'd both wanted to fuck; problems at Eddie's bar; a recent courtroom success with Elliot's job. The trill of Elliot's cell phone forces them to come up for air, and he answers it curtly, hating the interruption.

"What?" He barks into the receiver. A short pause and he replies, softening his tone. "Yeah, I'm with Drake. Uh-huh. Yes, I know what time it is." He rolls his eyes at Eddie.

Across the table, Eddie snickers. "Why's she calling if it's so late, huh?"

Elliot grins unabashedly back at him, and then returns his attention to his phone. "It's Saturday night, Liv, and I'm divorced, remember? Once and for all. I think I'm entitled to let loose on my birthday."

Gesturing with his beer bottle, Eddie yells, "Invite her out! Nothing like a third wheel who doesn't get any of our jokes to liven up the night!"

Stabler yanks the phone away from his ear and glares at Eddie. "She heard you, asshole!"

"Good," Eddie mumbles. "Hey, lemme talk to her."

"Yeah, right." Elliot lifts the phone back up to his ear. "Liv?" He tries to sound humble. "Oh. Okay..." He extends his arm, offering the phone to Eddie.

Smoothing his hair back with one hand, Eddie grabs the phone, keeping his gaze on Elliot as he speaks. "Ol-iv-ia Benson! I love hearing your sweet voice in my ear, though I liked it better last night when you were whimpering my name..." A boisterous laugh at Olivia's response. "Hey now, don't you threaten me. It's just us guys out tonight, celebratin', and I told Stabler to invite anyone with the right equipment – but he said you couldn't make it." Eddie laughs so hard that he chokes, and is still spluttering when he tosses the phone back to Elliot.

Another round of drinks arrives, and Eddie eyes them approvingly. He throws money onto the tray, and whistles softly under his breath. "Nice outfit," he says, getting a wide, friendly smile in return.

Stabler pins their server with a look, and then clears his throat. "Uh... Call you later. Yes, after the asshole leaves. Okay. Good ni-" He looks at the phone, shrugs and snaps it closed. He raises an eyebrow and points one finger at Eddie. "You are in so much trouble!"

"Bring it on, man." Eddie's smug. "I can take her."

"Take her where?" Elliot laughs. "You already sent the flowers?"

Eddie nods. "Hell yes I sent them... Stabler, your partner's fucking predictable, so I may as well be, too."

Elliot stares at the other man. "Uh huh. If there's one thing you're not, it's fucking predictable."

Picking up his shot glass, Eddie clinks it against Elliot's. They swallow simultaneously, and then slam the glasses back onto the table, repeating the process two more times.

"Can I just be fucking, then?" Eddie stares at Elliot, his face composed. His expression holds a hint of longing, and then it collapses into a full-on leer.

Elliot punches Eddie in the arm. "Funny. Got someone in mind?"

"Maybe I do," Eddie said, his eyes roaming over Elliot's face.

Elliot stares back, and then he takes a long, slow pull from his bottle of beer, and crooks an eyebrow. "That waiter's sleazy!"

Sighing, Eddie leans toward the table, staring into the empty shot glasses. "Yeah," he agrees. "Sometimes you just gotta get _dirty_, though."

Stabler reaches across the table, elbowing two empty bottles out of his way, and grabs two fistfuls of Eddie's shirt. He leans forward and yanks, slamming their mouths together and shoving his tongue in deep. Eddie moans in the back of his throat and grabs at Elliot's face, sliding one hand down the back of Elliot's neck and pulling him closer. Elliot licks at Eddie's teeth and sucks on his tongue, and finally draws back, waiting until Eddie's eyes open before speaking.

"Then let's go get dirty." His voice sounds hoarse. They grin stupidly at each other until Eddie stands up and offers his hand to Elliot, who takes it; they push their way across the crowded dance floor, rubbing up against strangers, ignoring the appreciative stares and casual gropes, their focus concentrated on each other.

On the other side of the mob of half-naked dancing men, they stop for a moment. "I feel the love!" Eddie shouts, and they share another laugh.

Elliot presses up against Eddie and walks him backwards to the nearest wall, then cups his hand over Eddie's erection through his jeans. "Me too," he murmurs into Eddie's ear, and then they're kissing again. Eddie touches him all over, sliding down and squeezing his backside. Shoving his thigh between Eddie's open legs, Elliot runs his hands through Eddie's hair, down and across his chest and torso, and then back around to grab his ass.

Suddenly, Eddie stops the kiss, pushing at Elliot's chest, and turning his head away. "Wait, wait," he gasps out. "Got... got something for us. For you." He's panting softly, his warm breath and mustache tickling Elliot's cheek.

Moving back slightly, Elliot grins savagely. "Besides your ass? Hell, it must be my birthday."

A short walk down a dimly lit hallway takes them to the bathroom, where they push at stall doors until one swings open _and_ it's unoccupied. Whatever's going on in the stall next to theirs is loud. "Sounds like a bunch of cats in heat," Eddie complains, but he pushes the door closed and locks it behind them.

They snort two rails apiece off a hand mirror on the back of the toilet tank, and then stand quietly for several minutes, watching each other. They're propped against opposite walls, with only a foot or so separating them. Elliot begins touching himself, skating his fingers down his throat, over his chest and stomach, and back up to his nipples, coaxing them stiff under his thin t-shirt. Watching, Eddie swallows three times in succession, the drip burning the back of his throat, then drops to his knees on the grimy floor and jerks Elliot's jeans down.

"Oh, _yeah_," Elliot says when Eddie's mouth closes around his dick. He slides both hands up Eddie's face, brushing over his cheeks, and then up further, clutching in his hair, holding Eddie's head steady so he can push his hips forward, trying to get more wet heat on his cock. He moans in frustration – the stall's too small to fuck his way down Eddie's throat like he wants. He settles for filling Eddie's mouth brutally, and the sound of the back of Eddie's head hitting the wall with every stroke makes Elliot thrust more aggressively. He pushes at the corners of Eddie's mouth with his thumbs and _snarls_ when Eddie's eyes roll back, and he digs his fingernails into Stabler's thighs.

Elliot knows he's not showing Eddie any mercy: there's drool coating Eddie's chin and he's wheezing, his thick cock outlined clearly by his leather pants, neglected until Elliot decides to touch it. Elliot tips his head back and slows his thrusts, letting Eddie take control. His body jack-knifes forward when he's swallowed down, the bristle of Eddie's mustache prickling his skin.

"Stop, stop..." he gasps out, pushing at Eddie's shoulders.

Drawing back, Eddie lets Elliot's cock slide out of his mouth, his tongue circling the crown, his lips shiny. "How old are you gonna be again? Popping off like a teenager touching his first hard-on, El." He shakes his head in mock sadness.

Elliot pulls Eddie up off the ground and launches him against the other wall. The thin metal creaks ominously under the impact of their combined weight. His fingers are busy undoing Eddie's fly, and the noises next door have not stopped. Their next kiss is sensuous, a long, slow, wet kiss, then Elliot bites at Eddie's lips, Eddie rakes his fingernails down Elliot's back, and they grind against each other frantically. Eddie turns around, propped on his forearms and elbows, and arches his back, enticing Elliot closer, as if they have room to maneuver in the tiny space.

Both men suck in a deep breath when Elliot peels Eddie's leather pants down; Eddie exhales in relief as some of the pressure on his dick is relieved, Elliot's reaction is one of pleased admiration. "You're just full of surprises," he says, his hands smoothing down Eddie's muscular back and over the pale, firm ass in front of him.

"Got another," Eddie says, and Elliot can hear the smirk in his voice. "Take a closer look."

Elliot slides down, planting wet, sucking kisses on each cheek. He pulls them apart and looks. "Jesus Christ, Eddie. You... oh, _God_."

Eddie chuckles. "'S nothing fancy, Stabler."

Pushing his dick against Eddie's ass, Elliot fumbles with the rubber. "It's fucking _hot_ is what it is." Task completed, he spreads Eddie's cheeks again, pulls out the slender plug, and shoves inside. Eddie makes a strangled noise, and Elliot wraps his arms around Eddie's chest and pushes deeper, the heat enveloping him. Knowing that Eddie's had the plug in all night, that he's already lubed and slick, that he did this for _him_ \- it's making Elliot shudder and groan.

They're both sweating now. Loosening his arms, Elliot slides his hands up, palms flat, and grips Eddie's shoulders, pulling Eddie's body down onto his dick, using him for traction and leverage. Reaching up, Eddie grabs hold of the top of the divider. They push at each other, slanted up against the wall, and Elliot's finally rewarded with a loud moan from Eddie.

"Yeah..." Eddie says. "More." His tone is urgent, beseeching.

Elliot tries to thrust harder, but finds his legs hampered by the jeans bunched at his thighs. He kicks one foot free, plants it up on the seat of the toilet, and the new angle when he slides back in makes them both cry out.

"Fucccck," Eddie says, and Elliot murmurs in agreement, watching his eyes flutter closed and reopen with every thrust.

Thumping bass music from the club filters into the john every time the door opens, and Elliot sets the pace from its rhythm. He can't pound into Eddie because of the limited space, so he works his hips in a corkscrew motion, swiveling and rocking until he feels his balls beginning to tighten. He nuzzles at the soft, freckled skin underneath the curls at the back of Eddie's neck, where he can taste the salt and sunshine of Eddie's skin.

Letting go of Eddie's shoulders, Elliot runs his hands up Eddie's arms and then back down again, settling one palm flat against his abdomen, the other hand wrapping around his cock.

Eddie throws his head back, and grins. "Finally!"

Elliot tightens his fist a shade too tightly, and Eddie's body bucks. Elliot shivers all over, so Eddie does it again, fucking himself back onto Elliot's cock, and then Elliot groans, stuttering out Eddie's name. He comes with his fingers tight on Eddie's stomach, breath hot on his cheek.

After tossing the condom in the bowl, Elliot straddles the toilet, one leg on each side, arms extended, like Eddie's about to frisk him. He sucks in a sharp breath when Eddie palms his ass.

"You fucking beautiful piece of meat," Eddie says. He scratches and rubs at Elliot's skin, then delivers a hard slap on each firm cheek.

Elliot's body jerks, and he looks down, smiling as his dick valiantly tries to rise. He exhales harshly when Eddie's fingers slip further down, then there's a lull in the action from the neighboring stall, and he can clearly hear Eddie jacking off behind him, and the sound is too much to bear. He turns, pulling his jeans up over his ass, then rests gingerly on the edge of the toilet seat and looks up at Eddie, who's leaning against the door, legs spread as wide as possible, stroking himself, eyes trained on Elliot.

Slowly, Elliot raises his t-shirt up, pausing at his belly button, stopping again above the hard ridges of muscle on his stomach, listening to Eddie's breaths speed up and falter. Twisting back, he grabs the vial off the tank and taps out a little pile onto his fist, right by his thumb. Reaching out, they meet halfway, and Eddie inhales the bump. Elliot doles out another for himself, sniffs it, and then flushes the empty vial. Casually, he pulls the bottom of his shirt up over his head, and slides off the seat onto the floor. He's on his knees, looking up at Eddie, his spent cock hanging out of his jeans, and he pinches a nipple between two fingers. Eddie growls a warning at him.

"You said you wanted to get dirty," Elliot purrs, lust in his eyes. Eddie covers the scant inches between them, pushes one hand against Elliot's throat, and directs his cock with the other, coming all over Elliot's chest. He touches the head to Elliot's hard nipple; Elliot licks his lips, and there's a last dribble from Eddie's dick, and it's nearly silent for a few moments, and then the wailing from one stall over starts up again.

Eddie laughs, tucking and zipping, then helps Elliot to his feet. They're presentable within thirty seconds, and Elliot feels like he could run home and fuck Eddie again, and then figures that by the time they do get home, his dick might be able to follow through. Eddie's looking down to the floor, and Elliot follows his gaze.

"Oops." He grins unapologetically. The butt plug's covered in... well, whatever covers the floors here. Eddie shoots him a nasty look, but Elliot's not about to touch it, so he watches while Eddie wads up a handful of toilet paper and tosses the whole mess into the trash bin. He smacks Eddie's ass as they leave the bathroom.

It's still warm outside, and they stand near each other as they wait for a cab, and then Eddie grabs Elliot around the waist, hugging him close. Elliot rears his head back and looks at Eddie, then cups the side of his face with one hand, and kisses him lightly on the mouth.

"Happy birthday to _me_," Elliot says.

"Sure seems that way," Eddie replies, his eyes mischievous. "Old as dirt, but one hell of a lucky guy."

**Author's Note:**

> Colleendetroit requested "Stabler/Drake/grimy bathroom/lines of coke/stall sex".  
> Luci_2 requested "Stabler, divorced once and for all".  
> Michiru42 requested "Eddie Drake and Elliot Stabler".  
> 


End file.
